


Matrix Match-Matching

by Spoon888



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: If He Just Made A Move And Got Himself Laid, Living Vicariously Through Optimus's Sex Life, M/M, Meddlesome Prime's Of the Past, Multi, Oblivious Prime Makes His Return, Or They Would Be, Post War AU, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 18:00:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21019916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoon888/pseuds/Spoon888
Summary: After the war, Optimus needs to focus on working with former enemies to rebuild the planet. It would be so much easier to cope with the monumental task ahead of him if the mob of former Primes inside the Matrix would just leave him and his nonexistent romantic life alone for one blasted second.





	Matrix Match-Matching

**Author's Note:**

> For megatronus-maximus on tumblr, the real genius behind this idea!

Two hundred and ninety six cycles into peace time, and Optimus Prime finally found himself sat across from Megatron of Tarn, scourge of a Kaon, former supreme commander of the Decepticon forces and infamous galactic warlord. He summoned his steely determination, staring the Decepticon across from him down.

It was two hundred and ninety five cycles later than they had been scheduled to first meet, and up until five minutes ago, when Megatron had finally strode in through the antechamber doors to take a seat across from him, Optimus hadn't believed it would ever happen, and that the peace they had been so nervously working themselves towards all this time, had been a trap. The paranoid whispers of the Matrix helped little with that.

They sat across from one another. Tense and silent.

Until Megatron quirked one of his clever, expressive brows.

"You can unclench now, Prime. I'm here."

Optimus's fingers twitched where they lay flat on the table before him. He curled them into fists. "Calling you 'late' would be an understatement."

Megatron shrugged, and with a scrape, pushed his chair back some. Not to rise, as Optimus tensed in fear of, but to lounge back, relaxed, calm, casual. A far cry from the raging warmonger Optimus had come to know through war.

"I see you didn't bother taking any time away for yourself," Megatron observed.

_Like taking a vacation is appropriate at a time like this,_ complained a voice sounding a great deal like Zeta Prime.

"No. But you clearly did," Optimus growled. "Two hundred and ninety five days worth of time away."

Megatron opened his arms. "You seemed to have to covered."

_That's the low-caste for you, _a snide little voice spoke in the back of Optimus's mind. Again, not the calm measured voice of his own conscious thought programming, but a foreign, ancient one. Nova Prime, beaming his unsolicited opinions from the Matrix straight into his processor. _Not a byte of work ethic to share between them._

_Thank you, _Optimus sent back reproachfully, with a strong hint for the ancient Prime, and everyone else in there eavesdropping on this, to shut up and mind their own business.

_Just look at his smug face, _now Sentinel Prime decided to join in, because as usual, once one of them started talking, they all did. With his resentful words, the Matrix sent a rush of unfounded aggression through Optimus's frame. _Should have shot him through the spark when I had the chance._

_You **didn't** have the chance. He beat you._ Optimus channeled all that aggression and fired it right back at them, refocusing on the task at hand - finding some common ground with Megatron, of all mechs.

"I hope you don't mind," Megatron continued speaking, oblivious to the turmoil of opinions going on inside Optimus, "But I brought my assistant to help in these discussions."

"Your assistant?" Optimus veered back, just as the doors swept open a second time to admit ...Starscream.

Who stalked past Megatron to take the seat next to him, swatting him atop his distinctly bucket-shaped helm as he went. "I'm not your assistant."

"But you do _assist_ me." Megatron rubbed his head resentfully, but his mouth was curling at the corner, amused.

"That doesn't make me your assistant." Starscream sat down with a heavy clunk. "If anything, it makes me your _carer_."

"Starscream?" Optimus interrupted. "In the interest of making this discussion fair and-"

"Stow it, Prime." Starscream scooted his chair forwards and dropped a datapad to the table with a slap. "_You're_ a politician. _I'm_ a politician. _He,_ is not." He pointed a condemning finger at Megatron and pulled a pitying face. "And I'm not going to let you take advantage of this poor, naive old codger."

An interesting stance from a seeker who had done nothing but take advantage of Megatron for the past four million years. Even more surprising, was how Megatron listened to Starscream's borderline insults with complete acceptance.

_They're in cahoots_! The paranoid voice of Nominus Prime panicked. _This is the worst possible scenario. A seeker?! In a position of power?!_

Optimus internally winced at the obvious bigotry behind that comment. "And you're happy to work together?" He said, a little louder than necessary to drown out the voices in his own head.

Starscream's smile was small but his optics sparkled. He laid his hand on the table in front of Megatron and to Optimus's immense surprise, Megatron lifted his to place it atop Starscream's. They _were_ in cahoots together.

_They're in bed together too_, Sentinel Prime grumbled, sounding jealous.

"Oh, we're more than happy to work together." Starscream's smile turned into a sly smirk. Megatron looked parts endeared, parts fearful when the seeker brushed a wing against his shoulder.

_Maybe if you'd taken two hundred and ninety five days off you could have landed yourself a seeker, _Zeta Prime mumbled resentfully.

_He's right you know, _it was Sentinel again, but he did little to distract Optimus from the casual slide of Megatron's thumb over the back of Starscream's hand. _When **was** the last time you got laid?_

* * *

Starscream was here to stay, and his opinions, even when they differed to Megatron's, held ground. Optimus couldn't work out if it was genuine acceptance from Megatron that Starscream had good ideas, or if the once-warlord was just too lovesick to remember he was the head of negotiations for the Decepticon side to even bother arguing with him. 

There was always the possibility that Starscream was blackmailing Megatron into compliance, but Optimus had never known Megatron to take such a thing lying down. Surely, if Starscream held that much sway over the larger mech, Megatron would have had him black-bagged and thrown into the scrap yard by now.

But no. Starscream put a great of effort into keeping Megatron endeared and distracted to get his way, sitting close -sometimes _in_ his lap, a sight that often had Sentinel frothing at the mouth- and constantly touching, moving, fluttering wings. Megatron wasn't always the only mech in the room under his spell. 

"It's high time we reopened the academies," Starscream declared on the third day of negotiations, which was when, finally, Megatron seemed to stir out of his stupor.

"Education?!" He blanched. "Those overpriced elitist hovels can wait. We have infrastructure to place. Homes to rebuild-"

"Medics to train," Starscream cut across him. "And architects, and chemists, and-"

"It's not a priority," Megatron huffed.

"It is," Optimus intercepted, blinking himself out of his own trance. 

They turned to him, and Optimus was taken aback at how genuinely interested they seemed to be in his opinion.

"Few of my Autobots are suited to hard labour and construction," He began. "Asides from simply needing something to do, we would see much more progress in redevelopment if everyone were able to pursue duties better suited to them."

"That's functionism," Megatron began dangerously.

Starscream scoffed loudly. "No it's _not_. He's talking about having the opportunity to _choose_ to study at one of those 'overpriced hovels'. Which is the exact opposite of functionism." He shoved Megatron's shoulder. "It's a good idea."

The 'thank you' became trapped in Optimus's throat, simply because he would have been saying it to Starscream.

_They're trying to seduce you!_ Nova Prime's ridiculous voice popped into his head.

Optimus's arm jutted out on it's own accord and knocked all his datafiles off the table. "I- excuse me-" he ducked down to retrieve them, screaming, _shut up_! at the Matrix.

_Thank Primus_, Zeta Prime praised, ignoring Optimus's plea for the room to think in his own head. _At least someone finally is-_

A chair scraped across the floor and before Optimus knew it, Starscream had joined him under the table, muttering about clumsiness and time-wasting as he helped Optimus gather his files. Optimus paused, watching him.

_Compliment his wings, _Sentinel suggested huskily, just as Starscream's warm fingers brushed the back of his hand. 

Optimus banged his head against the underside of the table. "Gah!"

"Prime!" Starscream exclaimed, optics wide with alarm. He reached for him again.

Optimus stumbled back and scooted out from under the table on his knees. He clambered back into his chair and found Megatron staring at him with a befuddled look. Starscream reappeared with his files next to him, frowning. "Are you malfunctioning?"

_You must be if you're thinking of turning down a frame like that, _Sentinel's lecherous voice growled.

_Enough!_ Optimus bellowed back, slamming his hand on the desk to punctuate how serious he was. Unfortunately, it had the added effect of making him look utterly insane to those not privy to the conservation occurring inside his own processor. Megatron and Starscream were looking at him as though his head had just transformed into a toaster.

Optimus stood.

"I'm afraid I am," he began awkwardly. "Malfunctioning, that is. I should go-"

"To a medic, I hope." Megatron stood just as abruptly and blocked the door. Optimus stopped short, unused to standing so close to his former enemy without the immediate threat of violence. Megatron's electromagnetic field brushed his, surging with confidence, a jarring contrast to Optimus's fumbling.

Megatron held out an arm, "We'll escort you."

Optimus glanced between them. Starscream was already gathering files into his arms, cleaning up. "You don't have to-"

"And risk you falling apart halfway there?" Megatron smirked charismatically. "You're not getting out of these negotiations that easily."

Optimus's throat felt tight as he recalled how easily Megatron's charms had once almost won over a naive Orion Pax so many millennia ago. "I'm not trying to get out of anything, Megatron."

_You need to out of this armour,_ Zeta snorted. _In my day the best way to resolve conflict was to frag it out._

Oh, Primus. Optimus felt a blush forming behind the battle-mask. Had the Prime's of the past _always_ been this lecherous? He supposed in the absence of sating their bloodlust they were going for the next best thing. Carnal desires. And once again, they where living it vicariously through him.

"There's no need to bother a medic. I ...simply need rest."

A hand touched his arm, and Optimus's sensor-net lit up at the light, warm touch. Starscream was at his side, frowning. Optimus fought the instinct to tear himself away- acting like their touch burned wouldn't do anything for the budding trust between them.

"We'll walk you," Starscream offered, and slipped his hand into the crook of his arm.

_Don't blow this!_ A desperate sounding Sentinel Prime near screamed.

Optimus swallowed thickly, and nodded.

* * *

When Starscream had said, 'we'll walk you' Optimus hadn't actually expected them to really walk. There was no dark unmarked transport shuttle awaiting them on the landing pad, and as he was crossing the sky-bridges with Megatron and Starscream, he felt a niggle of shame for having so little trust in either of them. Megatron had petitioned just as hard as he had for peace, but old wounds were slow to heal he supposed.

Megatron and Starscream talked among themselves as they walked at an unhurried pace, bickering over which was the best route to take to get to Optimus's apartment.

They had interrogated the address out of him before leaving the building. Bumblebee had told Optimus not to reveal it's location to anyone until trustworthy, non-biased security forces were up and running.

He was aware that telling Megatron and Starscream the location of his home was quite obviously the opposite of what he'd been told to do, but he had been flustered. Megatron had no regard for personal space and he smelt like gunpowder and warm iron and Zeta Prime had been thinking all manner of unsavoury things about him and ...it had simply ...slipped out.

And the thought of revealing to Bumblebee that he'd risked his personal safety and made himself vulnerable to Decepticon attack all because Megatron had asked him nicely and smelt good, was unbearable. He would rather let the Decepticons assassinate him.

"-No, the Eureka line takes us downtown!" His walking companions had continued to argue throughout his zoning out. "You're going to get us lost. Again!"

Optimus had come to realise Starscream's voice would grow in pitch when he was stressed -information that might serve him well in the continuing negotiations-

_Wonder how high it goes when he overloads,_ Sentinel Prime invaded Optimus's train of thought to throw in.

Optimus tripped on air.

"This is a short cut!" Megatron argued back, effortlessly catching Optimus about the waist before he fell.

Hot under the mask, Optimus tried to spin out of his grip and put some distance between them before he embarrassed himself further, but Starscream still had his arm, and Megatron was determined not to let the seeker drag him off in the opposite direction.

There was a brief tug of war, in which Optimus genuinely thought one of them was going to rip his arm out of it's socket. And then he really _would_ have to see a medic.

_They're fighting over you, make your move, _Nova Prime boomed. _Pick one and frag them_!

_Why not pick both?_ Zeta sounded excited again. _I would._

_No, pick Megatron,_ Sentinel joined in, determined to give Optimus a migraine before the cycle was out. _Put him in his place!_

Optimus shuttered his optics in resignation. "Megatron's correct."

The arguing stopped. Both on the outside, and internally.

"Passing through downtown is a ...short cut." He admitted despairing, choosing to glare across the street at an gaudy advertisement for joint grease than to look at Megatron's smug face.

Starscream huffed and dropped his arm, but Megatron, in victory, tugged Optimus closer with a ridiculous laugh. The same sort of mad gloating cackle Optimus had become accustomed to hearing before they did battle. It stirred memories in him. Not all of them good.

Not all of them ...bad.

_He certainly knows how to grapple. Have to give him that, _Sentinel muttered.

Optimus dismissed the hundreds of memory files _that_ unsolicited thought brought forth. _Stay out of those,_ he snapped at the gaggle of nosy Primes.

"You may be the fastest flier, but you never did have any sense of direction, Starscream!" Megatron was still lording his petty victory over Starscream, and Optimus was finding it increasingly difficult not to smile behind his mask.

He was getting too easy endeared by their antics.

"I didn't say he was wrong," he added, wanting to spare Starscream's sensitive feelings and unwilling to play a part in anyone's ridicule, but also needing something to distract him from the way Megatron's arm was lingering about his waist. A thumb was skimming over an armour seam, teasing sensors. 

His chest felt tight.

_Did you clean up before you left this morning?_ Nova started questioning, acting like a sentient piece of anxiety program and increasing Optimus's spark pulse by a full ten percent. _You can't bring them back a dirty apartment. No one wants to frag on a heap of laundry._

_They're Decepticons_, Sentinel offered snidely. _Can't be worse than the trash heaps they've already lived in._

Optimus ground his denta together. He was going to rip the Matrix straight from his chest before the end of these negotiations...

The Prime's were all still debating among themselves, in Optimus's aching helm, about how best to seduce a pair of Decepticons when he, Megatron, and Starscream finally arrived at his unassuming apartment building. The arm slipped away from Optimus's waist, and he felt a chill in the absence of Megatron's warm touch.

Industrial armour, he told himself, radiates heat.

_You've got the hots for him, dumbaft._

Optimus wasn't sure which of them that had been.

He turned back to his company and stood awkwardly in the doorway, fidgeting with his hands, unsure if he should invite them in or if the urge to do so was simply the influence of the deranged, dead Prime's stirring his emotions and making his thoughts and morals unclear.

_What's the worse than can happen? _Zeta whispered temptingly, a hedonist to his core.

_It's a trap and they kill him,_ Nominus answered for him.

Optimus cleared his vocaliser, "I-"

"I look forward to your thoughts on the academy reforms tomorrow." Starscream said pleasantly before Optimus could summon what remained of his courage.

Starscream retook Optimus's spot at Megatron's side, looping his arm through Megatron's. Despite their contrast in size, frame, colour, they looked good together. Made for one another even. A good fit.

Thoughts of inserting himself into whatever relationship they had managed to create out of this mess were swept from Optimus's processor. He stamped his sense of longing down, and took a step back - both physically and emotionally.

"Thank you for accompanying me," He said gratefully, voice even and cool. "I shall see you both tomorrow."

Megatron smirked like he knew something, and Starscream waved coyly over his shoulder, a wing fluttering lightly. They strode off arm-in-arm back up the winding street. Five steps away and Optimus could already hear them restart their bickering, and oddly enough, felt incredibly jealous not to be included in it.

_You need to get a life._

"Thank you, Sentinel," Optimus growled.

* * *

For how much they had to discuss and the sheer volume of legal material they had to work through, the day passed surprisingly quickly.

And Optimus, who -since learning he would be outnumbered two-to-one- had prepared himself for the uphill battle of constantly arguing two Decepticons at once, was surprised to actually have someone in his corner.

Starscream seemed far more open to Optimus's ideas than he was Megatron's, and one evening, during a particularly passionate argument about the integration of medics from either faction into one singular team, Starscream made a dramatic show of dragging his chair around to Optimus's side of the table.

Optimus awkwardly shuffled up to make room. He could smell Starscream's exotic blend of polishes as the air was stirred by glossy wings. 

_Thinking an awful lot about how nice he smells for a mech that 'doesn't want to frag him', _Nova muttered in the back of his processor.

"They have more medics. Better trained medics!" Optimus stopped sniffing the air and tuned back in to what Starscream was arguing. "Allowing them to work on only Autobot patients is detrimental to us!"

"That's not the problem." Megatron slammed a fist against the table and made the stacked files rattle. "The problem is no Decepticon would trust an Autobot medic to work on them. And I doubt Autobots would be lining up for the honour of treating a Decepticon."

"They will if they're led by example," Optimus said, the Matrix actually silent enough for him to think. "Ratchet would happily treat you."

Starscream snorted quietly. Perhaps 'happily' had been the wrong phrasing.

"Willingly," he amended. "He would willingly treat you."

"And you?" Megatron leant across the table, optics narrow slits. "You'll see a Decepticon medic?"

Starscream laughed before Optimus could answer. He leant across him to glare at Megatron. "No, he most certainly will not be."

"Starscream-"

Starscream laid a (protective?) hand on Optimus's shoulder. "You really want him visiting one of those self-taught morons if he's genuinely unwell?"

Megatron's mouth became a hard line. "Knock Out-"

Optimus felt claws sink into his armour seams.

"No." Starscream hissed through gritted denta. "You know how that flashy sports car can't keep his over-polished hands to himself. I don't like sharing."

They stared at one another, communicating wordlessly. In the silence, Optimus hardly dared breathe, until-

Megatron conceded, looking away and dropping back into his seat with a huff. "Fine. I see your point."

Optimus would have liked to have known what that point was.

_The point is they're not sharing you with 'flashy sports cars', _Zeta purred.

_Shut up_, Optimus growled.

"It'll be enough if you see Ratchet," Starscream told Megatron, claws retracting. He began stroking Optimus's forearm distractedly. "Prime's known to be trusting, but you're a paranoid maniac. It'll send more of a message to them if even _you_ can put yourself at the mercy of an Autobot."

"Paranoid?" Megatron's face twisted.

Sensing an incoming lovers-spat on the horizon, Optimus glanced at his chrono. "It's late." He began to stand. "We should wrap this up."

"But early still." Starscream also stood. "The bars are open."

"Coming Prime?" Megatron announced across the table. "I could always use an extra set of servos to help carry this one home after one too many glasses of engex."

Starscream scowled at the comment, but the corner of his mouth was curled in amusement. "And I can always use an extra lap to sit in."

Optimus's spark _throbbed_.

_Thank Primus, a social outing, _Nominus cut through the static panic ringing in Optimus's audials. _We haven't been anywhere in weeks._

"I don't think I can handle much more discussion tonight," Optimus said gently, wanting to let them down easy. Just in case they were serious.

"Likewise, Prime." Starscream rolled his optics. "Neither of us are planning on _discussing_ much either."

He ended it with a wink, and Megatron a smirk. Optimus's spark throbbed _harder_.

_Go for it you prude_! Zeta might as well have been kicking him in the spark, trying to jump start his libido.

"Another time, maybe," He managed to choke out, backing away and walking into the edge of the table, accidentally scraping it across the floor.

"We'll hold you to that," Megatron said, less enthusiastically this time.

Not wanting to read anymore into something that just wasn't there, Optimus fled through the doors. He didn't dare look back at the struck looks on their faces.

* * *

Optimus cancelled their next scheduled meeting -and remembering the near three hundred cycles Megatron had felt _him_ hanging before the start of these talks, Optimus felt a surge of vengeance in doing so. It was about time someone give Megatron a taste of his own medicine.

Unfortunately, he didn't have much else planned otherwise to take his mind off them.

Bumblebee comm'ed him with an invitation to the New Maccadams that evening, but Optimus didn't feel much like being around his comrades tonight. Doubtless, they'd want to know how the peace talks were going, and how emotionally draining it must be for him locking himself away in a room with no one but Megatron and Starscream for company all cycle.

It _was_ emotionally draining. But not for the reason they would be expecting.

Optimus made himself a cube and drank it sullenly, trying to sort through his own feelings, and what little evidence he had to work with.

He recalled the early morning Megatron had arrived with the fresh cube for him, and the late night Starscream had shared out a seemingly endless supply of treats to keep him alert and focused as they all struggled on how best to establish a unified planetary defence. He thought of all the times they had invited him out to fuel afterwards, had asked if he'd needed a lift back to his apartment, how carefully they considered his ideas, how seriously they took his view point - and if all these things were simply the actions of two mecha extending the hand of friendship. Or something more? 

Optimus felt an unpleasant tightening in his tanks over how little he had offered back, too distracted with his juvenile emotions and fear of overstepping boundaries.

Perhaps he simply wasn't in the right frame of mind for these discussions? Perhaps he should pass the duty onto someone less distracted, more driven. Perhaps Elita? Perhaps Prowl?

Optimus had never been a peacetime leader, after all.

He drank another cube to more throughly stew himself in his own misery. At least the charge of engex muted the pesky Prime's inside the Matrix.

He lifted his comm, more sure in his decision now.

He was hallway through entering Megatron's frequency into his comm when he realised how rude it would be to call them in the middle the night, drunk, to tell them he was pulling out of the negotiations. He should go to them personally, have the decency to inform them to their faces. It was only right.

Unfortunately, unlike Megatron, he hadn't interrogated the whereabouts of their apartment out of them. So he had no idea where they lived.

But he knew someone who would know. Off the record, of course.

Elita answered after one ring, still businesslike and alert a jour after midnight. Optimus decided not to wonder what she was doing up at this time. When it came to Elita, it was always better to have plausible deniability. "_Optimus_."

"Elita," Optimus cleared his vocaliser, speaking slow and even to minimise the chances of slurring. "I have a favour to ask."

There was a pause.

"_Are you charged_?"

"No," Optimus lied, then felt guilty about lying. "I have had a cube," He admitted.

"_Sounds more like four cubes._" He could hear Elita's frown through the comm. "_Where are you? It's not like you to drink alone."_

"Never mind that," He waved his hands dismissively, forgetting that she couldn't see him. "I need Megatron's address. And Starscream's too."

"..._They live in the same apartment, Optimus."_

"I know. I know they're conjunxed," He reassured her quickly, feeling flustered at the thought of anyone thinking he might be trying to interfere in their relationship. "I just, I just have to see them."

There was a longer pause this time. When Elita finally spoke she sounded doubly amused._ "I **might** have some information on their current living arrangements. But I'm not entirely sure it's appropriate for the Autobot leader to go banging down their door in the middle of the night."_

"It's urgent. An emergency, even," Optimus claimed. Because it was. To him, at least.

"_Oh **well**_," he might have picked up on her dripping sarcasm had he been even an iota more sober. "_If it's a professional matter, by all means-"_

Optimus's comm pinged with a file.

"-_But you didn't get it from me_," she teased.

Optimus murmured a grateful thank you, already halfway out the door before hanging up on her.

* * *

Optimus pressed the door chime for a third time, all the while praying to the engex soaked Matrix that this was the correct address and Elita wasn't playing a cruel trick to teach him a lesson about bothering acquaintances in the middle of the night.

It wasn't looking good so far. The apartment building was modest and homely. Outside there was a young but lovingly crafted crystal garden. Landscaping wasn't the sort of thing he'd expect Decepticons to be particularly interested in, let alone a pair of power-mongering, war-criminals like Megatron and Starscream.

Though he surprised 'war-criminals' was an unfair accusation. Optimus had enough of those in his own ranks.

He leant against the door, unbalanced and tired, the trip here having done little to dwindle the rampant charge running through his frame. So when the door unexpectedly slid away he overbalanced and fell over the threshold, landing face-down with a deafening clatter of armour in the otherwise silent street.

He groaned, and turned his head to see a pair of elegant blue thrusters. One of them tapped impatiently.

"How charming. Prime's here."

Optimus shuttered his optics to refocus his vision, lifting his pounding head to see another pair of pedes coming towards him at speed. These ones large and black and far from elegant. "Is he injured?"

"Worse. Drunk."

Optimus managed to negotiate his limbs into working, dragging one across the floor to grab at Starscream's ankle. "I can't do this anymore," he began, aware how much he sounded like a rambling drunk but unable to stop himself anyway.

"Don't just stand there gawking. Pick him up!" Starscream's impatient voice demanded.

Optimus was already struggling to get himself back on his feet when a pair of warm arms locked around his middle.

"You could help," a strained, rasping voice growled in his audial. Megatron, Optimus realised with a shudder at the pleasant sensation of Megatron's warm, strong chest against his back. He melted a little, involuntarily making himself even heavier in Megatron's grasp. Megatron cursed and scrambled not to drop him. "Starscream-!"

"Alright, stop whining," Starscream hissed, and Optimus felt the seeker pick up his left pede.

Optimus probably should have helped, at the very least he could have gotten his pedes under himself and stood under his own power. But in such close proximity to them, the idea of wasting such an opportunity was far from his mind. He ended up being carried into the apartment between them, Megatron lifting him under the arms and Starscream holding his legs.

"What in the Pit's is he doing here?" Megatron was saying angry, walking them backwards into the apartment.

"I don't know. I didn't invite him!"

Optimus felt awash with guilt at his intrusion. They didn't want him here. He writhed in their arms weakly, "I should go-"

Starscream barked a laugh. Optimus looked past his legs to see the amused spark in the seeker's optics.

"In _this_ state? And when you walk off the edge of a sky-bridge, never to be seen again, who is going to get blamed for your disappearance?"

"I am perfectly capable-!" Optimus found himself airborne mid-sentence as they reached a berth-room and Megatron swung him into an arch to land with a thump and bounce on a large, comfortable berth. Optimus clutched the sheets in to steady himself, tanks full of engex rolling unpleasantly.

"Ugh."

"Don't purge on my side," Starscream huffed, and the berth dipped as he climbed up next to Optimus, nudging him ever so slightly to the right. Optimus found himself staring at cherry red hips and glossy white thighs.

"Starscream," He sighed, utterly enamoured.

Starscream made a noise of amusement. A hand fell to Optimus's head, stroking back and forth. "He's pretty out of it."

"You're an embarrassment," Megatron snarled, and Optimus realised the tugging sensation he'd been feeling was Megatron yanking the covers out from beneath him to throw over his sprawled frame. "Stumbling about the city in this state. Imagine if you'd been seen. Imagine if you'd been taken advantage of?!"

"I had to see you," Optimus implored, reaching for Megatron. "I can't do this anymore."

"Can't do what?" Starscream's marginally more gentle voice asked, though Optimus suspected he was only being made fun of. Starscream was still stroking his helm, a thumb drifting down the side of his head to caress his battle-mask. "Put up with Megatron? Join the club."

Optimus nodded, and the berth shook lightly as Starscream struggle to stifle a laugh.

Megatron was simply too irritated to be genuinely hurt. "Sleep it off, Prime." He growled, and tossed the sheets over him so they covered his head. "Starscream, get off of him."

"It's _our_ berth." Optimus heard Starscream protest.

"He's overcharged," Megatron hissed. "Couch. Now."

"Fine." Optimus felt Starscream leave the berth. The now vacant space next to him rapidly began to cool. "But I'm not sharing it with you. You can sleep on the floor."

"No. I should go," Optimus realised, rising clumsily. The sheet slipped off his head and revealed his hosts still lingering in the doorway. "I'm intruding-"

"If we didn't want you here we'd kick you out, you great big idiot," Starscream scoffed. "You think I'd put up with just anyone turning up at my door in the middle of the night. Stay here."

Optimus shook his head, only half listening. "This is inappropriate."

He began to swing his legs off the berth, but Megatron stepped forward and gave him a gentle shove backwards. Optimus tipped over easily and ended up staring at him, flummoxed.

"Stay." It sounded like an order.

Optimus swallowed thickly, mouth dry, and not just from the engex. "It'll only make it harder to leave come morning."

"Then don't leave," Starscream offered lightly, stepping around Megatron and pressing a quick, casual, effortless kiss to the side of Optimus's mask. Optimus felt his face burn beneath it. His spark exploded in his chest. "There's always room for one more."

Optimus fumbled with the command to retract his face-mask, but Megatron snagged the edge of Starscream's wing and tugged him back with reproachful mutterings about taking advantage of overcharged Autobots before either of them could move in to continue it.

"He came here!" Starscream could be heard arguing with Megatron out in the corridor, just before the doors slipped shut.

Optimus laid back and stared at the ceiling, his spark drumming, thought's spiralling, and Matrix uncommonly silent. He turned his head into pillows that smelt like them, and let himself drift off into a fitful, pining recharge.

* * *

_When most mechs wake up with a hangover in the berth that doesn't belong to them, _Sentinel Prime's disembodied voice was the first Optimus heard the next morning, _it's usually after a night of debauchery._

Optimus groaned and rubbed a hand over his face, struggling to recall the events of the previous evening, and what sort of deranged thinking had led him to be here, in what he suspected was his former enemy's home, in their _berth_ nonetheless.

Their large, comfortable berth.

He turned his head and counted the eight pillows, the imported fur throw at the foot, and the silkiness of high thread count covers. They were all too decadent to be choices of Megatron's.

Begrudgingly, Optimus began to rise, rehearsing in his head what excuses he was going to come up with to explain what had happened last night, why there was no need to ever mention it again, and hopefully, find some way to professionally withdraw himself from the negotiations without making it look like it was the fault of his own _nonexistent_ personal conflicts regarding them.

He ignored the banging of his processor and moved out of the berth-room into an open plan, well lit living space. Megatron and Starscream were sat at the counter, energon in hand. There was a third chair, and a third cube set out next to them, both obviously for him.

The simple gesture was like a punch to Optimus's lonely spark. His excuses vanished from the tip of tongue.

"You're not still charged, are you?" Starscream called after a sufficiently long pause, never one to let silence go unfilled.

"I- no," Optimus cleared his vocaliser of static, wishing he sounded less like a foolish mechling and more like the planetary leader he was. "Simply embarrassed. I don't know what came over me last night. I'm sorry for intruding-"

"Well it was about time," Megatron grunted, and threw back his cube like it was a shot of concentrated engex. "We were wondering when you were finally going to turn up."

Optimus blinked. "I don't understand."

"It's not the most promising start," Starscream continued, finishing his own energon more elegantly. He slipped off his stool and began sash-swaying towards Optimus like the living room was a catwalk. "If it takes getting you so overcharged you can barely walk to face us. But I'll take it."

"Take-?"

Starscream came to stand in from of him.

Stood a full two full heads shorter than him, Starscream had to tilt his head all the way back to meet his gaze. Two hands came up, and Optimus should have flinched away from those claws, not leant into them. But he let Starscream cup the sides of his face, let thumbs brush along the seams of his battle mask.

"I was beginning to think you didn't like us," Starscream purred.

Optimus's tongue turned thick and immobile. He said nothing. Could only stare into Starscream's ruby red optics as they focused on him.

"How many times does a seeker have to ask a mech out for a drink before they get the hint?"

"Six." Megatron supplied.

Starscream's face darkened. "I didn't ask you to actually keep track."

Optimus's spark pulse picked up. His fingers twitched at his sides with the effort it took not to lift them and touch Starscream's glossy armour. It wasn't his to touch. It couldn't be. "You're-"

"I'm flirting with you, Prime." Starscream arched a brow, speaking slow and with emphasis to get the point across. "We both are."

"...I see." Optimus said gruffly, thoroughly blindsided.

A fist slammed against the counter. "The wisdom of the all those past Primes and you can't even pick up on when someone wants to get under your panels?" Megatron growled, but he sounded more amused than annoyed.

_I don't want to say 'we told you so', but_... began Zeta.

"You could have made it more obvious," Optimus protested.

"We asked you out for _drinks_," Starscream near screeched. "We offered to _walk you home_."

"That doesn't necessarily mean-"

"What do you want, Prime," Megatron demanded, standing up and swaggering over. Optimus's tanks tightened at the sight of his approach; his rolling shoulders, his large hands clenched. "For us to climb into your lap and tell you to frag us?"

"Of course," Starscream leant into Optimus, lips parted and optics hooded. "If that _is_ what you want...?"

Optimus stared between the both of them. Megatron's challenging scowl and Starscream's provocative smoulder.

_Say yes_! Sentinel bellowed. _For Primus's sake, say_-

Optimus was beyond wasting time on words. He let his mask fold back and ducked his head to catch Starscream's mouth in a kiss. Starscream gasped at the suddenness of it, but relaxed with a sigh, supple and pliant to his touch. His smaller frame fit against Optimus's like it had been built for him. He parted from him gently, but kept Starscream close with an arm about his waist.

He turned to Megatron, and before he could make a move, a large black hand shot out and caught him by the chest plating, yanking him forwards into a very different sort of kiss, too rough to be sensual but exciting in a thousand other ways. All tongue and teeth and Megatron's rumbling growls, stealing Optimus's breath and shrinking the world. The kiss broke with Megatron's deep, victorious chuckle.

Optimus breathed, lips flushed and stinging, trapped between two Decepticons wearing equally predatory smirks. He swallowed, probably well out of his depth, but loving every second of it.

"Perhaps I will take you up on that drink after all," He smiled, leaning in to their tightening hold.

The Matrix surged in his chest as the Prime's within it rejoiced. Optimus blocked out their bickering voices as Starscream leaned up for another kiss, and Megatron purred praise in his audial.

_I told you lot this was going to be a good idea!_

_Oh shut up, Sentinel. It wasn't your idea!_


End file.
